by Gerri Hill
“I know.” She twisted her napkin nervously. “What did you do when you found yourself attracted to Tori? I mean, you were with a guy then, right?”
Sam smiled at the memory. “Yes. And I was scared at first, I didn’t really know what was happening. It obviously made me realize that what I felt for Robert wasn’t it, you know? But we weren’t living together, so that made it easier. And we weren’t engaged. He wanted to get married, but I was never ready.” She squeezed Leslie’s hand again. “And of course, now I know why I wasn’t ready.”
“It’s funny. When Michael asked me to marry him, I thought it would be good because he still had his friends and his games, and he wouldn’t expect me to be with him constantly.” Leslie tossed her napkin down and leaned her elbows on the table. “Isn’t that an awful reason to agree to get married?”
Sam studied her, wondering what it was Leslie wasn’t telling her. She didn’t have to wonder long.
“I’ve had these feelings before.” She glanced at her. “For a woman, I mean. Well, a girl really. We were nineteen. And without going into great detail, I ran from it. I just couldn’t deal with it at the time. I didn’t think I could ever deal with it.” She paused as the waiter brought their tea. “I hid it away, I buried it, and I went on with my life. Truth is, I forgot about it. I mean, I’m thirty-two. Nineteen was a long time ago.”
“But before Michael, I’m guessing there wasn’t anyone?”
“No, not really. I dated but…how did you know?”
“Because before Robert, I was the same way. And when I met him, I thought, this isn’t so bad. I mean, maybe this is all there is, you know?”
“Exactly. That’s how I felt with Michael. It’s been okay. But now, it’s not okay.” She looked at her. “Casey, I think about her all the time. I can’t wait to get to work each day. I want to be near her, I want to touch her. And when I get home to Michael, I realize I don’t feel those things with him. I never felt that need to be with him.”
Sam nodded. “I know exactly how you’re feeling. I just wanted to be with Tori all the time. I didn’t care how or when.”
Leslie laughed. “I know. I never thought I’d love all-night stakeouts.”
They were quiet for a moment, Sam letting Leslie collect her thoughts. She finally leaned back in her chair. “So? Now what? Does Casey know?”
“Casey is either oblivious to it, or else she’s pretending she’s oblivious.”
“Well, if it’s anything like with Tori, I had to practically hit her over the head with it. But maybe that’s not what you want? Maybe you want Casey to ignore it?”
“Like this is a phase and I’ll get over it?”
Sam shrugged. “Perhaps. I mean, you consider yourself straight, right?”
“I did, yes.”
“So did I. Until I met Tori. And I thought, how funny. What are the chances I could make it into my thirties and have never met a woman who stirred sexual attraction before? Must be an anomaly. But I couldn’t shake it. All the things I was taught I’d feel when I fell in love, I never felt them until I met Tori. And once I accepted that and quit fighting it, it just all fell into place. Tori, on the other hand, was harder to convince. She had this huge wall around her. She wouldn’t let anyone get close. She didn’t want anyone to love her and she didn’t want to love anyone. It was her way of not getting hurt.” She sipped from her tea, wondering how much to tell Leslie. “I know you don’t know them very well, especially Tori, but if you take them at face value, they seem so very different from each other. Tori is distant, she appears unapproachable to most. She doesn’t make friends easily. Casey is just the opposite. She’s very friendly, very open, and very approachable. And they both hide behind those traits. Tori lost her whole family when she was young.” She paused. “They were murdered while she was made to watch.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”
“She was twelve, but it took its toll. And Casey, well, she just had a crappy childhood. And her brother, well, let’s just say he’s a—”
“Bastard,” Leslie finished for her. “She’s told me some.”
“Good. Then you can understand how they were both starving for family. So when the two of them get together, as different as they appear on the outside—when they drop their protective shields—they are so much alike, it’s scary. They could be sisters. I tease them all the time, and despite their protests, I think they love it. They need each other.” She stared across the table, wondering where she was going with this story. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that underneath that happy-go-lucky persona that Casey sports most of the time, lurks a fragile and kind heart, just like Tori’s. And I don’t want to see it get broken. She doesn’t deserve that.”
Leslie smiled. “No. But that would mean we’d have to actually talk about this.”
Sam laughed. “Yeah. Good luck with that. Getting them to talk about their feelings is like pulling teeth.”
Their waiter brought their quiche and Leslie looked up in surprise. “Lunch?”
“I missed breakfast.” She felt her face blush, remembering just why she’d missed breakfast. “It happens quite often.”
Leslie picked up her fork, then paused. “You won’t say anything, will you? I mean, to Tori?”
“No. I promise. I won’t say a word. This is between you and Casey.” And she wouldn’t. She sat there, watching Leslie, remembering her own plight, remembering how scared she was when she realized it wasn’t Robert she was in love with but a woman. Scared, yes, but it had all been worth it. It hadn’t been easy, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Tori was her life. And she wanted nothing more than for Casey to find that same kind of love. Whether or not Leslie was the one, she knew they would have a rough road ahead of them.
But some things are worth it.
Chapter Nineteen
Casey pulled up beside Leslie’s car, just like always. And like always, Leslie was waiting for her. She had two water bottles this time.
“I’m tired of you stealing mine,” she said lightly as she handed one to Casey.
“And here I brought you an extra bag of potato chips,” Casey said with a smile.
Their eyes met for a second, and Leslie nodded. Yes, they both knew what they were doing. And it was okay. Forget about yesterday. Start over. They could do that.
Casey pulled into traffic, driving slowly down Main, heading to Deep Ellum. Hunter and Sikes were already out, cruising the apartments. And with any luck, they’d find something. Because the idea of being out every night, cruising the streets, was depressing.
“Michael have plans tonight?” she asked.
“No. Actually, he was pissed.”
“Told you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I told you that you weren’t going out alone.”
“Yeah, well, we can’t keep this up indefinitely. You’ll be divorced before you’re even married and I’ll never get a date.”
Leslie laughed. “Those are our choices? Divorced and celibate?”
Casey pulled onto Elm, cruising slowly through the club district. “So, how pissed was he?”
“I’m apparently bordering on neglect.”
“I see. Food or sex?”
“Both. He can’t seem to order takeout on his own.”
“But sex on his own is not a problem, right?”
Leslie laughed. “I wouldn’t know. But we had quite the argument earlier.”
“I’m sorry. Again—”
“Stop. Our argument had little to do with me being out again. It was just an excuse.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When Michael has options, like a ball game, he doesn’t care about my hours. But when he has nothing, like tonight, he cares. And as I told him, if I’d been left alone last night while he went to his ballgame, he wouldn’t have considered it neglect that I was home alone. But apparently, since I’m out tonight while he’s home alone, it’s suddenly a big deal.”
“So you left without
having dinner and you’re making him fend for himself?” Casey guessed.
“Pretty much. But he’ll just end up going to Jeff’s. They’ll order pizza and play games, and he’ll forget all about our fight by the time I get home.”
And then you can make up with sex. Casey was surprised by the jolt of jealousy she felt at the thought. Good grief. They’re engaged to be married. They’re living together. They have sex. Get over it. They probably had sex last night. She glanced quickly at Leslie’s profile. She was staring out the window, lost in thought. Yeah, they probably had sex last night. Casey was at home, agonizing over the little indiscretion she’d had, and Leslie was with Michael. Having sex.
She didn’t realize the tight grip she had on the steering wheel until Leslie touched her arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You have a death grip on the wheel.”
Casey made herself relax. She took one hand off the wheel and reached for her water bottle, taking a long drink.
“Casey?”
“Hmm?”
“I like you a lot, you know.”
Casey stopped at a red light, chancing a glance at her. But Leslie’s gaze was straight ahead, staring out the window again. The light turned green and she went on, not knowing what to say.
And for the next hour, they cruised up and down Elm, and on the side streets, looking for anyone who caught their eye. They talked some, but their conversation took on a less personal tone. Which was fine. It was less stressful that way.
At ten thirty, just when she was planning her last drive down Elm, Leslie spotted him. She grabbed Casey’s arm, jerking her around to her side.
“There. That guy.”
He was young, tall and thin, and the only thing out of the ordinary was the long trench coat he wore. It was at least eighty degrees out. He ducked down a side street, walking quickly, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, head down.
Casey turned down the street, following him at a distance. The traffic was light and she felt conspicuous. “I’m going to pass him. It’s too obvious we’re following if we stay back.”
“Okay. But go slow.”
And she did, moving past him at a steady speed, then turning on her blinker a block down and taking another street. She drove out of sight, then made a U-turn, and killed her lights. They waited.
“There he is.”
He walked past the intersection of Baumer and headed north on Oak. Casey let him get a block ahead, then she pulled away from the curb. “You see him?”
“Yeah. He’s up ahead.”
“If he stays on Oak, he’ll have to cross Gaston.”
“Cascades? You think he’s headed there?”
“Could be.”
Casey waited until the light turned on the cross street before moving into traffic. She eased between two cars, going with the flow as they passed him again. At Gaston, she turned right. “Watch him.”
Leslie turned in the seat, looking out through the back. “I’ve got him.”
Casey drove as slow as she could without causing attention. One block up Gaston, at Hall, she crossed lanes, moving to the left. “Can you still see him?”
“No. He’s out of sight.”
“Goddamn,” she muttered. She sped through the intersection, turning left again, trying to get back to Oak. “Where the hell are we?”
“We’re on Swiss. Keep going. It intersects back with Oak.”
And there they saw him again as he jogged across Swiss and turned onto Cobb, going north.
“Cascades is one block up,” Leslie said. “Should we call Hunter?”
“Let’s wait. Hell, for all we know, he lives there. He could have just had a night on the town and is going home.” She drove past Cobb, taking the next street up. She saw the waterfall and turned into the entryway for the Cascades complex, parking in the first spot they found and then killed the engine and lights. “Duck down.”
They both did, sliding low in the seat. And within minutes, he came into view, crossing practically in front of them as he ducked into the shadows, moving silently among the shrubs.
“He doesn’t live here,” she said.
“No. But he knows his way around.”
“Let’s follow.”
They got out, closing their doors silently. Without thinking, Casey took Leslie’s arm, pulling her, urging her to go first. She followed, keeping to the shadows, following him. Leslie stopped up short and Casey did the same.
“He went between the buildings,” she whispered.
Casey nodded, keeping a hand on Leslie’s arm. “Let’s give him a minute.”
And they waited. Casey could feel the tension between them. She squeezed Leslie’s arm and she turned toward her, eyebrows raised.
“Ready?”
Leslie nodded, moving again, following him. They found him easily. He was beside a shrub, staring into an apartment, his hand inside his pants.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered. “He’s jacking off.”
“I think that’s what Peeping Tom’s do.”
Casey pressed against the building, pulling Leslie with her. They stood face to face, their eyes meeting. “You stay here,” she said. “I’ll go around the side, keep him from running.”
Leslie nodded, never taking her eyes away. But when Casey turned to go, Leslie pulled her back. “Be careful.”
Simple words, but damn if they didn’t tug at her heart. Casey’s gaze dropped to Leslie’s lips and she had such an overwhelming urge to kiss her, she panicked. She backed up, nearly tripping over the shrub, only to regain her balance when Leslie grabbed her.
“You okay?”
Casey grinned. “I’m an idiot. Other than that, I’m fine.” She slipped away then, going back the way they’d come and down the sidewalk, and coming up from behind him. When she had him in view, she slowed her pace, walking purposefully toward him.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
He jerked his head around and they stared at each other for a second, then he bolted, taking off toward Leslie. She pulled her weapon, pointing it directly at him.
“Don’t move.”
He stopped, turning, but Casey was there and she grabbed his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the building. “No, you don’t,” she said. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Who are you?”
“Police. And you’re being very naughty.” Casey stepped back, looking at him. “Christ, man, put that shit back in your pants, okay?”
“I…I didn’t do nothing wrong.”
“Yeah? You think it’s okay to watch girls and jack off while you do it?”
“But she leaves her blinds open.”
“Whatever.” Casey twisted his hands behind his back. “What’s your name?”
“John.”
“Well, John, you’re under arrest.” She slipped her handcuffs around his wrists. “Let’s start with indecent exposure,” she said, glancing again to his unzipped pants.
“I…I didn’t mean no harm, ma’am.”
“Uh-huh. And what’s your last name, John?”
“Doe.”
“Doe? Are you kidding me? You’re going to give me Doe? John Doe?”
“What do you mean? That’s my name.”
Casey turned him around but she felt Leslie move beside her, felt her light touch on her arm.
“John? I’m Detective Tucker. This is Detective O’Connor.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s Leslie. She’s Casey.”
“Pretty names. Mine is John.”
She nodded. “Yes. We’re going to want you to go with us to the police station, John. Is that okay?”
He shrugged. “She’s got me tied up. I don’t know if she’ll let me go.”
Leslie glanced at Casey. “She’ll let you go. In fact, she’s going to drive us.”
“Okay then. I guess I can go, Miss Leslie.”
“Good.” Leslie turned
back to her. “Okay?”
Casey nodded. “I’ll call Hunter.”
Chapter Twenty
“And his name is John Doe? Are you kidding me?”
“He’s…well, he’s a little slow,” Casey said.
“And he’s willing to give DNA,” Leslie added.
Tori spun around. “Does he know he’s giving DNA? If you said he’s under arrest, has he requested an attorney?”
“No.”
“So when you say he’s slow, does he even know where he is?” Tori glared at Casey. “Christ, O’Connor, we can’t screw this one up on a technicality.”
“It’s been by the book, Hunter.” Leslie moved between them, feeling the need to defend Casey. “We told him he can request an attorney to be present. We told him he didn’t have to talk to us. We told him he didn’t have to volunteer DNA. It’s by the book.”
“Does he know why we want his DNA?”
“Yes.”
Tori nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“It’s been a long night for us all,” Casey said. “Let’s just do it and get it over with. Besides, he’s not our killer.”
“How can you be sure? Anybody can put on an act of being slow.”
“I don’t believe it’s an act, Hunter. But we’re getting the DNA, so that won’t be an issue.”
“And we can hold him overnight. I spoke with Mac. He called Emerson. They’ll put a rush on it at the lab.”
“Okay. Have we offered him a phone call?”
“Yes. He said he doesn’t have anyone to call. We’ll cut him loose in the morning.”
Tori stared at them both, finally relaxing. “Okay. It’s your case, your call.” She turned to go, then stopped. “You let Malone know?”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “He said to run it by you.”
“Wonderful,” she murmured with a sigh. “All right, I’m heading out. See you guys in the morning.”
Casey slumped down in her chair as soon as Tori left, and Leslie couldn’t stop herself from going to her. She slid her hands across her shoulders, squeezing gently, feeling the tense muscles under her fingers. She squeezed harder, eliciting a moan from Casey. A moan that caused a shiver to run up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, her hands still resting on Casey’s shoulders. Then she moved, patting her arm in what she hoped was a friendly manner.